The Oslo Affair (Shadows of War, #2) by CW Browning (read after .txt) 📗

for the former. As soon as he does, and you get the package, you can bring it here to me for safe keeping, if you like. After losing it once, we don’t want to run the risk of one Else’s boarders taking it from your room.”

Evelyn’s lips tightened imperceptibly. While she knew Daniel probably had no idea that it was her father who had lost the package, the reminder of the failure struck a bitter note with her.

“And, of course, that goes also for anything you may pick up from the Nazis,” he continued, oblivious to her discomfort. “If all goes well, you’ll have quite a packet to take back with you.”

“And how shall I get it to you? If all goes well?”

“Oh, we’ll set up an appointment. If you have something to bring me, send a messenger over in the morning. Then come at lunchtime when most of the building is away. Say, twelve-thirty?”

“And no one will think that strange?”

“My dear, this is Oslo, not Moscow. We’re not skulking around in the shadows just yet,” he said humorously.

Evelyn felt her cheeks go warm.

“I’m sorry. The last time I did anything like this, I ran head-first into a Nazi Untersturmführer of the Security Service,” she told him. “I suppose I’m rather expecting more of the same.”

“Good Lord, did you really?” Daniel raised his eyebrows. “Where?”

“In Strasbourg.”

“Well, I’m fairly sure you won’t run into any here. At least, not the Security Service. Nazis, yes. Abwehr, most definitely. But you’re highly unlikely to encounter any SS or SD.”

“That’s a relief, in any event,” she said with a smile. “It’s not an experience I’m in a hurry to repeat.”

“No, I don’t suppose you are.” Daniel studied her for a moment. “If you do run into any unpleasantness, let me know, but I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Evelyn nodded and stood, tucking the envelope into her purse. He stood with her and came around the corner of the desk.

“I’ll alert your Russian friend that you’ve arrived,” he said. “Beyond that, let me know when you have something and I’ll arrange for your return trip. Remember, if you get something you can’t conceal easily, bring it here for safekeeping.”

She nodded and held out her hand. “I will.”

“Best of luck to you, Miss Richardson.”

When the blonde woman exited the embassy, the man in the garden across the street straightened up. She was wearing a long, thick navy coat with a matching hat that was made for the cold weather. Even so, the outerwear had the stamp of high quality and appeared to be in the latest fashion. He watched as she stood on the pavement and pulled on her gloves before turning to walk down the street, her purse hooked over her arm.

The man pressed his lips together thoughtfully, waiting until she reached the corner before emerging from the garden. The woman was nothing like what he’d been expecting. She was young and pretty, and obviously accustomed to moving in greater circles than the agents he was used to seeing.

She turned the corner a block away, disappearing from view, and the man crossed the road to follow. How on earth had she ended up here? She looked like she would be more suited to hosting dinners for a diplomatic husband than to visiting Oslo and meeting with the likes of Daniel Carew. The whole situation was very intriguing. He picked up his pace, rounding the corner a moment later.

She had already crossed the next side street and was on her way to Drammensveien, the busier road in the distance. Undoubtedly, she was heading for the bus stop there. He had plenty of time. The next bus wasn’t due for ten minutes. She would reach the stop well ahead of it, and there was no fear of him losing her on the bus.

Turning his collar up against the wind, he pulled his hat down low over his face and lowered his head. The temperature, not very high to begin with, was dropping rapidly. Oslo in November was not his favorite place, but it couldn’t be helped. He had to follow the Englishwoman, winter or not.

As the light faded, she turned onto Drammensveien. A moment later, he turned the corner and saw her up ahead, standing at the bus stop with three other passengers. He slowed his pace and lowered his head again, glancing at his watch. He didn’t want to reach the small group gathered on the pavement too soon and risk her noticing him. It was imperative that she not have the faintest inkling that he was there.

Looking up, he saw a bus in the distance coming towards them. A moment later, he joined the crowd at the back as the bus pulled to a halt at the curb. A few minutes after that, he was seated four rows behind the blonde woman in blue as the bus swayed and jerked into motion.

Chapter Eight

Evelyn poked her head into the kitchen at the back of the house. Else was standing at a large square wooden island, chopping vegetables. She looked up when the door opened and raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“Miss Richardson!” she exclaimed, setting down her knife and wiping her hands on her apron. “I thought you went out.”

“I did. I’ve just returned.” Evelyn stepped into the kitchen and let the door close behind her. “Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all, my dear.” Else waved a hand, motioning to a stool. “I’m cutting vegetables for soup. Sit and keep this old woman company.”

Evelyn smiled and dragged the stool over to island, perching on it while Else resumed chopping. The kitchen was a large and cheerful room with a window overlooking a small, neat garden. Afternoon sun poured through the glass, slicing across the work surface where piles of turnips, carrots and potatoes were waiting to be cut into chunks and thrown into the pot simmering on the stove.

“Did you have any trouble finding the embassy?” Else asked, glancing